Vindicated
by Renegon
Summary: Same universe as Learning to Breathe, originally intended as a collection of one shots that grew wildly into a full story. Following the story of ME2 and the relationship between Shepard and Garrus, but also the rest of her crew. Adding in the personality and details left out by the game, with some adjustments to the timeline. Shakarian with prior Shenko.
1. Stay With Me

**Vindicated**

**Chapter 1  
Stay With Me**

A/N: Prequel to my Learning to Breath story, although this will probably see more updates than that. I had originally intended to make a collection of one-shots with the back story to the Shakarian relationship of the story, but the list and the ideas got longer and longer. Shepard is a default appearance Earth-born War Hero, Vanguard Paragon with a mean streak of Renegade - also of note, I am using the ME3 Vanguard build with the omni-blade and nova. This will start at ME2 and I haven't decided yet whether to break off ME3 as a separate instalment, though I probably shall.

To begin with, it will follow the game canon and dialogue pretty slowly, but the idea I had when writing the one shots was to inject more personality and to move certain dialogues and character interactions around, in particular with Shepard and Garrus - where the game had a sequence of events to stick to and needed to keep everything brief and adaptable to whatever your Shepard was, I have tried to pad out and make less non-specific. So to begin with, it might seem too tight to canon, but bear with it; it will be more than headcanon once it's all fired up.

Warnings for angst, violence, and past Shenko. More angst than I am generally comfortable with, actually, but bear in mind that at the moment a lot has happened and there is a Shepard without her Vakarian... and as we all know, that just isn't a thing that exists.

* * *

Idly fingering the glowing scar on her cheek, Shepard stared at the folders in front of her, prospective recruits, people Cerberus thought could help her on her mission. At the moment, Shepard had precisely no interest in any of this. She was still trying to wrap her head around everything that had transpired over the past few days, heck, the past few years, though it didn't seem that long to her. Frankly, the idea of replacing any of her old crew, people she had considered her friends and her surrogate family touched on a nerve that was still too raw.

She sighed and slumped forward on the desk in her cabin, head in her hands. The Illusive Man had been evasive and bordering on dismissive of her need to see them. Moved on, he had said. Could not be trusted, about some of them. It stung. After everything they had been through in their fight against Saren, she had let them down. She had gotten sloppy. She should have impressed on them all the importance of staying alert, monitoring systems and watching for whatever was out there, and if she'd just been that little bit faster in getting Joker to the escape pod…

Shuddering, she stopped short of going down that road. A hazy memory of that jarring mix of a crushing pressure, choking her as her oxygen slowly slipped away and a dizzying weightlessness was creeping up on her, and she never wanted to feel that way ever again. She reached across for the frame at her desk, a picture of Kaidan flickered to life in it, which she ran a hand over, gently. Trying not to think too hard into how Cerberus knew to put this there, or how they'd gotten hold of the picture, she thought of the last time she had seen him, running, at her orders, to see everyone into the escape pods. They had been in a weird place after Ilos and the Citadel, and she'd not known where they stood before she had died, let alone two years after the fact. She'd sensed he wanted to bring it up, but always avoided the subject herself, because she just didn't know what to say. Frowning, she flicked through the rest of the pictures stored to the device, one of each of her crew, before putting it back down, screen turned off. Regardless of what had happened, he had been a great comfort to her, a friend when she had needed one. They all had. The ship felt empty and wrong without them. They were irreplaceable.

Leaning back, she stretched and flexed, testing muscles that still felt new to her, not entirely her own. It was somewhat disconcerting, feeling the skin weaves and cybernetics stretch and bend just below the surface, but Miranda assured her that it would feel like normal in time.

Miranda. That bought her thoughts back to the dossiers sharply. The woman grated on her, and she struggled to understand why she had bothered to spend the last two years trying to resurrect her. She was so curt, by the book, cold and disinterested. And yet vaguely she remembered a soft voice that first time she had woken up, soothing her into staying calm, grey eyes wide with concern. She would try not to judge the operative too harshly before she had a chance to get to know her, but she didn't trust her. For the moment, she was Cerberus through and through. Jacob was the same, if a little more human and easier to connect with. She needed more people on her side.

Splaying the three out in front of her again, reflecting on her choices. This would have been easier if Tali had left Freedom's Progress with her, but she could understand the Quarian's hesitance. After all the time they had spent breaking up Cerberus operations, their disgusting and barbaric experiments, to learn that Shepard was now one of them – well, it disgusted the woman herself. As it stood however, these were who she could choose. A Professor, Archangel, a Warlord, a Theif and the Veteran.

For now, she narrowed it down to location. Three of the five were on Omega, it seemed to make sense to go straight there and pick them all up. Hopefully, in the time it would take to head out to the other two, she would be able to work on getting them on her side. See what made them tick and evaluate what they were fighting for. If it seemed calculating to think of it that way, so be it. It was in her nature to try to get the best out of her team, and ideally, like her last crew, they would become friends along the way, but if that didn't happen, at the very least she should know how to push their buttons.

This left her firstly with the Professor, who the Illusive Man, and therefore Miranda, were pushing as a priority. Fiddling with the cuff of her casuals, irritatingly in Cerberus black, white and orange, not the familiar Alliance blues, she bit her lip. Their point was valid, they needed him to work on negating the seeker swarms, but a stubborn streak in her wanted to delay that a little, establish that she was the one in charge here, and that everything they did – each mission and each decision – would be down to her. On the other hand, that noble part of her brain, the bit that convinced her to make sacrifices and do everything by the rules and for the greater good, was anxiously trying to remind her that every day longer they delayed was another day closer to losing another colony.

Tossing Dr Solus' profile to her tray, she growled lightly to herself. It had been so much easier with the Alliance. The dynamics had changed, and adjusting to that was just as unpleasant as adjusting to her new role as the bionic woman. With the Alliance, the greater good won out, and her mean, calculating streak was suppressed by regulations and a sense of duty, even when she had become a spectre. She picked up Archangel's file and brushed a hand over the name, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she felt a spark of kinship. A Vigilante. Working outside the law for the greater good, making the tough decisions that everyone else avoided.

Shaking her head, however, she tossed that into the tray as well. She was projecting herself onto him, whoever he was. And whatever species he was, she supposed too. Sighing, and got up and pulled her shirt over her head, heading towards the bed, she pressed a button on her Omni-tool and patched herself through to Joker. "Set a course for Omega, Joker."

"On it, Commander."

As she finished stripping off, a series of beeps alerted her to someone accessing her channel. Miranda. What did she want now?

"I see we are headed to Omega, Commander. Who are we headed to first?"

The tone of voice annoyed her, the absolute certainty she would not be refused information, and with the underlying assumption she already knew the answer at that. Swallowing and taking a deep breath, Shepard reminded herself that it was suspicion talkinge "I haven't decided yet, Ms. Lawson. We'll take a shuttle down and assess the situation when we get there. See which seems more pressing."

There was a pause. Briefly, Shepard entertained the idea of keeping a tally of disapproving gestures Miranda made on a day to day basis. "Very well, Commander. I'll be awaiting further instruction."

Turning off the Omni-tool, she collapsed into the bed and knocked a switch on the bedside to dim the lights, though her mind was still racing, keeping her wide awake. As she tried to get some rest before they arrived at her destination, all she could see was the fires and the burnt out shell of the SR-1, and feel the deep chill of space as she drifted away ever faster towards the icy surface of Alchera. In a strange and haunting way, as she stared down between the bits of debris, her vision failing, it looked beautiful. On reflection, she was glad that she had died before the fire of re-entry.

!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i

Omega was a dive. As the stale air filtered through her suit, she made a few presses to up the filter on it and decided to keep her helmet on until she found their contact. The station was grey, brown and dismal, smoke rising from the streets below the dock they had landed, a red glow here and there outside the dim street lighting. She was still taking in her surroundings when she noticed a Salarian babbling away at her, and raised an eyebrow under her helmet. She was about to cut in when a Batarian shooed him away and greeted her.

"You know who I am?" She asked, not bothering to remove her helmet just yet. This whole place felt hostile and she had an intense dislike of Batarians from the Skyllian Blitz all those years ago.

"Of course. We had you tagged the moment you entered the Terminus Systems. You're not as subtle as you think. Aria wants to know what brings a dead Spectre to Omega. I suggest you go to Afterlife now and present yourself."

Twitching at the thought of being under surveillance, and biting down a retort, she folded her arms in front of herself. Now wasn't the time for confrontation. "Cut the attitude. I'm not here to cause problems for Omega."

He gave a short laugh and raised a hand high, a gesture she didn't know enough about his kind to interpret. "Things explode around you, Shepard. You can't blame Aria for keeping an eye on you." She shrugged non-committally. This was true enough, even if she didn't appreciate it. His tone changed immediately, however, brooking no argument. "Afterlife. Now."

Hand twitching on her SMG as he turned and walked away without waiting to hear a response, she glowered through her helmet. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jacob watching her anxiously. "Relax, Taylor. I know better than to dock and start shooting."

He raised his hands defensively, "I read your psych profile, Shep. We both know that isn't always true."

Rolling her eyes, she strode ahead to her first pickup, who she had been informed would be waiting for her arrival on the dock, in time to see him give a nasty knee to the abdomen of some unfortunate soul. Apparently, not everyone seemed to think that beating on Batarians just outside of her ship was a recipe for trouble. His charge mumbled something, only to receive another kick. "No one said you could talk, jackass."

Leaning on one hip, she looked the older mercenary up and down. And she had thought she was beaten up. "You Zaeed Massani?"

"Yeah. That's me. You must be Commander Shepard. I hear we have a galaxy to save."

Wondering how much me knew and how he came to her through Cerberus, she decided that now wasn't the time for twenty-one questions. "Good to have you aboard. We have a lot to do."

He took out his Heavy Pistol, examining it carefully, seeming not to be too interested in the details either. "I assume the Illusive Man told you about our arrangement?"

Now, she didn't like the sound of that. "No." Watching his face carefully, she found it was very difficult to read him, and he kept up a close façade of impassivity. "I assume he chose to leave that information out of the dossier."

He took a few steps and rounded off on her and began outlining his terms. She nodded passively and agreed to his terms, even staying mute and ignoring him as he gunned down the Batarian he had been working at before without offering explanation or justification, and stalked off to the ship. It occurred to her that he didn't give a damn about what she thought, just his job and their mission. She couldn't help but feel the sting of disappointment when she realised that this one was going to have to be a calculated and controlled ally, not the friend she had desperately hoped she could find. Maybe he would at least be easy company after she'd had a chance to work on him a little.

Turning back to Miranda and Jacob, pleased to not the woman seemed to share her disgust, her nose wrinkled in distaste, lip curled in a near undetectable sneer. "Let's get to Afterlife. I already hate this place."

"It's an undeniable pisshole, Commander." She offered, watching the back of the mercenary as he reached the airlock doors. "But at least it keeps you on your toes."

!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i

More grey and brown. More industrial looking buildings towering up above them. Another fight on her way in the club. A recruiter snarled at her that he was busy as she made the mistake to stop to ask someone for help getting her bearings. This got worse by the minute. She stopped for a moment, watching some of the lithe Asari as they writhed around their poles. This seemed like a strange place to be to do business, whoever this Aria person was. Striding up the stairs to a platform overlooking the whole club, she wondered what kind of favours this one was going to need.

She heard a pistol whirr and activate behind her head as she ascended the final flight. Without turning, the purple-blue Asari at the top drawled at her, "That's close enough."

Behind her, Jacob and Miranda sprang to attention raising their own firearms, only for several more of Aria's men to train their weapons on the group. Aria nodded her head to the side, and Shepard flicked her right hand, indicating to the two of them to stand down. A Batarian approached her with a scanner, and she scowled, but allowed him to go ahead.

"I was told you're the person to talk to if I have questions." She sighed pointedly, not paying him any heed, even as he barked that they were clean, only the Asari. Shepard had met women like this before. If she made any sign of weakness, it would be a mistake she would sorely regret as long as she knew her.

Aria eventually turned around and fixed her with a stare, her dark markings creased as she focused on the human. "Depends on the questions." She said simply, unhelpfully.

Gritting her teeth and playing the game, she went along with it. Let her give her speech, big herself up, settle in. Dramatic gestures and hyperbole seemed to be big with Aria, but given she was the self professed Queen of Omega, and Shepard had work to do in her domain, it made sense not to argue with that. It seemed to work, because soon enough she was sat on the corner of the couch along from her, as the Asari slouched and watched her dispassionately.

What she discerned from the woman was worrying, and as she made her way back down the stairs, she realised it hadn't cleared up her decision much. She signed up with the mercenaries and made her excuses to join them later rather than now, heading to the outside of the club to discuss their options, although she already knew what way this going to go. On the one hand, Archangel was a wanted man, and he didn't have a lot of time. He was cornered, he had nowhere else to go, and his time and more than likely his thermal clips were running out. But on the other, the plague that Dr Solus was working on sounded nasty, and it was claiming a lot of lives before the Blue Suns got involved. He would need help, not just against the mercenaries, but she had a hunch that he wouldn't leave until his work was done, though she hoped it would be more simple than that.

No matter how much she wanted to ignore Miranda and the Illusive Man and make a play for some dominance, they had to get the Salarian first. The lives of the many weighed heavy on her conscience, as they always did, and she couldn't put her own insecurities above them, even if they weren't Cerberus' prized humans.

Miranda didn't ask, only watched her.

"We head to Dr. Solus. We'll just have to hope that Archangel can survive for another few hours."

Smiling, though careful not to gloat at getting her way, Miranda nodded. "Yes, Commander."

!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i

"Are these missions always going to be so grim, Miranda?" Shepard grunted, as she pulled back her omni-blade from the last of the dead mercenaries of this pack and kicked him to the side into a pair of dead Turians, sickly looking and twisted "Or is this your idea of hazing me?"

Popping the heat sink and reloading her pistol in one fluid motion, she dark haired woman grinned. "Well, we wouldn't want you going soft on us after all our hard work."

Giving a short laugh, she pressed onwards as her shields recovered from the Nova she had let off shortly before. "Oh, it's not the fighting, Lawson, it's not my style to stay out of it, but I could do without the burning corpses."

"It sure isn't a pretty sight, Commander, I'll give you that." Jacob agreed, frowning as he scanned the room. "I can't believe they just left them all here to die."

"I guess the council isn't the only thing to like sweeping it's problems under the rug." She grimaced, stepping over another casualty, and remembering that poor pair they had found locked in a room, claw marks on the door and the floor, showing their desperation, left to die alone. "Let's hope we can find this Mordin soon and help these poor bastards."

A few more clusters of resistance later, including stumbling on an open fire fight between some Blue Suns and Blood Pack, which was not pleasant to get in the middle of, in spite of the fun 'charge fight' she had had with the Krogans, and they had stumbled on the clinic. There were many sick in the waiting room when they got there, though none as bad as the bodies they had come across before. Asking around, she found that Mordin had saved many of their lives or at least stabilised others, and she was optimistic that this Salarian seemed like a much more agreeable person than Zaeed had been.

However, as predicted, while he had seen almost all of his patients through the plague, he had yet finalise a cure for it. This seemed unsurprising, as the doctor seemed distracted by his own intelligence, listing off possibilities and refuting them in endless streams until he reached the correct one, his movements as jerky and unstable as his thought patterns. Somehow through this, he had an air of assuredness and calm, and between these two impressions Shepard didn't know what to think of him. Did Salarians have an equivalent to coffee? And if so, how much of it was the guy having?

"Mission? What mission? No. Too busy. Clinic understaffed. Plague spreading too fast. Who sent you?" Also as predicted, he declined to help, too determined to overcome the problem at had to be persuaded otherwise. Furthermore, he stiffened and became more withdrawn and wary at the mention of Cerberus. Shepard took this as a personal challenge to recruit him. A man of conviction like this she could get on board with, strange behaviour included, if she could only persuade him of the good she was trying to do.

Continuing in the honesty, she looked at him levelly, head held high, helmet tucked under an arm. "We're after the Collectors."

Now that peaked his curiosity. He started to verbally reel off possibilities and similarities of their goals, pacing excitedly, gesturing. It made her a little dizzy to watch him so she peered interestedly around the room, spotting a few things to discreetly pick up to fund their mission on the way out. He stopped in front of a terminal and began tapping away. Shepard tried to pick up where she had stopped listening "…but must stop plague first. Already have a cure. Need to distribute it at environmental control center. Vorcha guarding it. Need to kill them-"

She cut him off. "I'll get in and deal with the Vorcha."

However, right on cue, there was a loud hum of machinery as the previously mentioned environmental control cut down. The Salarian started ranting again, and she began to pull out a shotgun and ready her barriers she just about picked up on a few key words, something to do with a shiny new gun and his assistant. She tried to wind down the conversation and his rambling and headed to the door. Conversation with him was something she'd need to learn to do eventually, but for now there was work to do.

"Keep those warps ready, Miranda. We have Vorcha to kill."

They headed out, guns at the ready and cure to hand to win over the doctor, not at all keen on the idea of suffocating along with everyone else in the area. It would be nice to have someone at her back who wasn't on Cerberus payroll, however in the back of her mind, a voice sulked that he still wasn't her crew though.

And if he was going to talk like that all the god damn time, well, she was going to need more company than just him.

!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i

After the debriefing when they had taken the Professor back on board the Normandy, he had stalked off excitedly to the lab, to his next project. They'd chatted briefly as she popped by to fund some research projects, but he was brief and just fast talking as he had been in the lab, moving from subject to subject very quickly. It amused her slightly, and she hoped that one day she'd get used to his pace. Salarians didn't have a very long life expectancy, but it seemed like he'd seen it all, and she was keen to extract some more details from him some time soon. He, however had been more interested in EDI and his new task than in the woman herself, but the Commander dismissed that thought as needy. Maybe she'd just taken for granted before the easy relationships she had with her previous crew. Or maybe she was just apprehensive of starting the process all over again with new people. She moved back to the comm room and inspected their agenda again. Rubbing her eyes and leaning her back against the comm room table, she rolled her shoulders.

"EDI, how much time has passed since we first docked at Omega?"

"It has been five hours, Commander."

Time flies when you're biotically ripping apart Vorcha. She had hoped to catch some lunch, but she'd have to grab a ration bar and eat on her way to the transport hub to meet the mercs and hope that Archangel was still hanging on in there. "EDI, tell Miranda and Jacob to head back to the airlock, we're not done here."

"It's time to pick up another miscreant" She sighed to herself and cracked her knuckles carefully through her hard suit, the exoskeleton to support it through her still new and creaking. "Maybe this one will be well adjusted." She hoped out loud.

"Logging you out, Commander" Came the reply. Shepard groaned to herself. She absolutely needed company to get through this mess.

Soon enough, they were on the station again and ready to go, this time heading the opposite direction to the transport hub, and to a group of people who wanted to kill the very person they were here to pick up.

"We need to play this carefully, Shepard." Miranda murmured quietly in the skycar, as it flew along rapidly to their destination. "Keep an eye out for any opportunities for sabotage and scope area. We'll need to be in the best possible position when we turn on them."

She nodded, trying to ignore the urge to snap at her and remind her that she knew how to do her job, but when she met the look in the woman's eyes, there was no condescension there. Just doing her own job, Shepard supposed. "Got it in one, Lawson. One mercenary group is bad enough, but whoever this guy is, he's got three gunning for him. It's not gonna be an easy extraction."

There was still a look in the woman's face that bothered her, beyond her dislike for being told what to do, and Shepard had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to this recruit than the operative was letting on. "Is there anything else I should know, Miranda?"

"Not that I can think of." Came the easy reply, as her grey eyes slid across to the window and she leaned heavily on one hip. Shepard was not reassured.

When they got there, the situation looked even bleaker. Archangel had found a brilliant funnel for them all, but tiredness was catching up to him, and the mercenaries had found a way around. "We're not going to be able to stay under cover for long." Shepard said, squinting over the barricade across the bridge. "There is limited cover, and once we're out on the bridge he will be doing his thing and trying to pick us off. We need to make it clear, once we are in scope, that we are here to help, so that means no discreet kills. We need to do this close range, messy, obviously and violently. No problem for me." She grinned flexing, as a Vanguard this was exactly her style. The two Cerberus agents shifted uncomfortably, knowing this lecture about not getting their heads blown off by the sniper was for their benefit, as it would be damned obvious who she fought for. "Let's have a look around and see if we can't find where they are hiding their mechs and this gunship before we head out."

Behind them, there was the whipping noise of a bullet, and a Salarian recruit on the barricade lost his head in a mist of blood and brain matter. They all ducked back around the corner, having scoped out the terrain enough. "Damn he's a good shot. I like this one already."

After further exploration, Shepard found several useful things. She found several ways to make herself a nuisance, including hacking a few mechs and casually electrocuting the mechanic working on the airship, she found a nice handful of credits and resources, and she found a little intel on Archangel. The leaders of the mercenaries let slip that he had made the fight personal with his targets, almost trying to send a warning with who he had been taking out, and that he was a Turian. Miranda had approved of the intel and the sabotage, but given her that look which Shepard was becoming quite familiar with over the thievery.

"They're mercs!" She shrugged, as she worked on opening a locked door that hid some very nice schematics and some shipping details that could be manipulated to gain a few credits. "Think of me as Robin Hood. It's easier that way."

She'd have been lying though, if she said she wasn't softening a little to the overbearing operative. Didn't trust her as far as she could throw her, mind, but it was like having some manner of protective sibling watching over her. A sibling she couldn't wait to leave at home so she could have the freedom to do her own thing and who she only wanted to visit occasionally.

Finishing her looting, she hurried along to the team who had been called to assemble just before the mechanic had met his 'shocking' (she laughed to herself internally) fate. She quickly adjusted their comm channel so that the others couldn't hear them. "Here goes nothing, you two know what to do. On my mark."

Stepping onto the bridge, there was chaos. The idiot freelancers were firing ahead blindly with their assault rifles, without a hope in hell of landing a shot from this distance. They dropped one by one, head shot after head shot. Flexing her hands, omni-blade at the ready, Shepard grinned, feeling the heat of her biotics flare through her body, a gentle blue glow surrounded her.

She looked over her shoulder at the two of them, grinning broadly. "Let's give them a surprise of our own."

!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i

If they had seemed stupid before, the way they descended into panic and chaos from her first charge and Nova at a conveniently huddled group of four was downright amusing and she relished the dance from freelancer to freelancer, mercilessly slashing where she was too vulnerable to detonate her barriers and letting off devastating explosions of energy where she was near enough cover to recharge following it.

It was exhilarating, one of the few things that had kept her on the straight and narrow when the battle was over and she was the Commander again, not just another soldier. The bloodlust that flowed through her, the electrical surge as her biotics came and went in waves and she moved like an angel of death from mercenary to mercenary. It was not as fluid as she was used to when she had a team at her back who she would trust without hesitation to cover her as she charged around the battlefield erratically, and she found herself having to stop and use her shotgun, firing from the hip with one arm, barely a wince for the kickback, as the occasional enemy would manage to flank her where they didn't know enough about the way she moved to cover her.

Suddenly, the trance was broken as a shot ricocheted off her collar from the balcony above. She stopped, a freelancer falling, dead or wounded, from her blade and glared through her visor. It was unlike him to miss, based on her observations thus far, and there was no follow up to it, so she assumed the bastard was telling her to get a move on. She grinned slightly. Anyone who communicated 'hurry up' with a bullet was someone she could get on board with, and she stalked onwards, charging only forward, sending powerful shockwaves or shotgun blasts to her sides as she made an arrogant and deliberate beeline for the cornered Turian above her.

As Jacob and Miranda finished off her targets behind her and she got further from the fight, she came back to herself, floods of self doubt returning. Archangel was right, they were coming round the back and they would shortly regroup. Now wasn't the time to give in to those feelings of immortality that came to her with the fight. Reigning herself in to take in her surroundings in the apartment he had holed herself up in, she found some unfamiliar omni-tool plans and a few thermal clips. There were also neat rows of body bags, that made her wonder somewhat if he hadn't been alone up here at first. It made her shiver to think of being holed up here with her old crew as they were all picked off one by one.

As the door upstairs whirred open, the Turian barely glanced over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the scope of his rifle. She nodded, unsure if he'd even caught it, and removed her helmet. "Archangel?"

He still didn't reply, making a few adjustments and going very still as he lined up the shot. She cocked her head to the side, unfamiliar with such disciplined marksmanship, but still intrigued by it. His target must have peeked out from cover, because he gently squeezed the trigger, not a single other muscle set in his body moving, and she could just about make out a red mist in the distance over the balcony. The Turian cocked his head to assess the kill and the terrain one last time before climbing down from his perch.

The way he moved from there seemed awkward and shaky compared to his previous controlled motion, and he took a few steps towards her, hand reaching to scratch at a fringe he couldn't get to through his helmet before he finally pulled it off and sat down. Her breath caught in her chest and she took a step forward, eyes wide, taking in the sight before her to make sure she wasn't imagining it, projecting again. He kicked a boot up on a crate in front of him and leaned heavily on his rifle facing the floor. Bright blue eyes slid up and met hers, familiar silver plates with their blue clan markings across the nose and mandibles.

"Shepard." He rocked slightly and looked back at the floor. "I thought you were dead."

She gaped a while, overcome with relief, drinking in the familiar and friendly sight before her, whom she had been told was missing, and even Cerberus couldn't trace. Eventually she raised her arms, as if to embrace him, but lowered them again, taking a few steps forward her old friend "Garrus! What are you doing here."

He still wouldn't look at her, even as she tentatively made her way towards him. "Just keeping my skills sharp. A little target practice."

Though he was now deadly still the way he was fingering the barrel of the rifle gave away his anxiety, that he was still processing this himself. His voice and manner were more gruff than she remembered and he looked tired, worn down, in no way the young C-Sec officer she had said her goodbyes to at the Citadel, so full of hope and ambition. Brows drawn she looked him up and down carefully, checking for injury, before beginning again quietly. "You okay?"

"Been better." He said simply, looking up eventually to meet her eyes, if he was glad to see her he didn't show it. All she could see was sadness and resignation. "But it sure is good to see a friendly face. Killing mercs is h_a_rd work, especially on my own."

As they went through the lines of her asking how he came to be in this place, she noticed he didn't take his eyes off her again. He didn't go into the details of his departure from C-Sec, but she knew there was more to it than he was letting on. "You nailed me good a few times back there." She pouted, stopping a few feet away from him and crossing her arms, still trying to read him. He'd been an enigma even during their time on the SR-1, and he was so closed off now that the job became infinitely harder.

"You were taking your sweet time out there." He said simply, finally breaking the eye contact to glance out across the bridge again. "I needed to get you moving."

Drawing level with him, she looked out across the bridge at the mercenaries regrouping behind the barrier and swallowed, her resolve to get Archangel out of here alive higher than it had ever been, feeling a fierce swell of protectiveness in her chest. "Well, we got here. But I don't think getting out will be as easy."

"No, it won't." He agreed, standing next to her and taking better stock of the renewed movement. "That bridge has saved my life… funnelling all those witless idiots into scope. But it works both ways; they'll slaughter us if we try to get out that way."

Miranda spoke up in the background, scowling. "So we just sit here and wait for them to take us out?"

Garrus cocked his head to the side and turned, acknowledging her team mates. "It's not so bad. This place has held them off so far." As he paced around the room, Shepard noted that the nervousness he used to have when he addressed his teammates was gone, he seemed in his element as a moved, calculating their chances, formulating a plan. "And with the three of you…"

He paused, giving Shepard a brief look, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at his hesitance to take point, to give her orders, but she nodded ever so slightly, encouraging him to continue. She didn't know what had happened to him, but not all of it was bad. The optimism she had had earlier with Mordin was back, growing each second longer she spoke with her friend, it was only one person, but it was someone she could trust, it was a foothold, and she could feel some of the anxiety falling away.

Finally sensing she was allowing him to lead here, he continued. "I suggest we hold this location, wait for a crack in their defences, take our chances. It's not a perfect plan." He stopped pacing and turned to face his old Commander, as if for approval. "But it's a plan."

_What happened here?_ The question was on the tip of her tongue, but while he wasn't the withdrawn and sullen Turian he had been when he first took off his helmet, she didn't want to push the issue. "If we fight as a team, we'll hold them off." She agreed, giving a weak grin

_Damn him for being so unreadable_, she thought, as he levelly held her gaze, but was sure his mandibles twitched in what she used to recognise as a Turian smile of his own. "You're right. Their numbers won't help them in here, anyway. Let's see what they're up to."

And with that, they resumed formulating a plan. He raised his rifle as he spoke, using the scope to see better what they were doing. As they spoke, he passed it across for her to see, despite knowing she was very much unused to handling a weapon like that. Blushing slightly, she awkwardly raised it up to eyelevel, a group of mechs coming into scope. Experimentally, she lined up the head of one of them into scope, and exhaling gently before freezing to hold position, she took the shot. It's head exploded in a shower of sparks.

This time, as she handed the rifle back, she definitely saw a flare of his mandibles and a flash of teeth, and couldn't suppress a grin, subtly rolling her shoulder again, trying to hide how it was smarting from the strong kickback it had given her. "More than scounts. One less now, though."

Nodding appreciatively, he took it back, making unnecessary adjustments like she had interfered with it somehow. "Indeed. We better get ready. I'll stay up here. I can do a lot of damage from this vantage point. You…" He rolled his right shoulder and shot her a look, "You can do what you do best." Reddening again slightly at his reference to her earlier outburst as she crossed the bridge, she shrugged. "Just like old times, Shepard."

That warmth in his voice, that was exactly what she had been needing – no, craving – since Cerberus had woken her up. Flexing her neck, she began to prep her barrier, the glow spreading from her fingertips once more.

!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i

"You stole my kill, Vakarian." She said accusingly, as she made her way back up, Miranda and Jacob keeping an eye on the perimeter, maybe to give her some of the privacy their initial reuinion had lacked. "I wanted to tear that bastards head from his stupid body and then, all of a sudden, he didn't _have_ a head."

He splayed his hands out in front of his chest and shrugged, a blend of the Turian and human gestures for 'my bad'. "You're kicking ass out there, Shepard, they barely touched me. And we got Jaroth in the process. Been hunting that little bastard for months."

Frowning, she stepped forward and laid a hand on his arm. She desperately wanted to know what had happened. Garrus hadn't been quite so close to her as Kaidan and Ashley, perhaps, but she liked to think that they were still good friends. "I don't need to know what happened here Garrus, not yet, but when we're out of here and you want to talk, I'll be there."

He sighed heavily, and she felt some low vibrations through both of their armour. She understood from her training in basic that Turians communicated a lot through their sub-vocals, and that humans couldn't hear all of the pitches for the tones they made. It made her curious and quite sad to think there was something there that he couldn't express. At length, he spoke again. "I- I really thought you were dead, Shepard."

She stepped forward and moved her hand to his shoulder, lowering her voice and switching off her comm link briefly. "Then we both have stories to tell, I think" She muttered, quietly, biting her lip, green eyes searching his face as he bore holes into a book shelf opposite them. "I'm here now, if it means anything to you at all. I know it's been two years for you and a lot less for me but… I've missed having a friendly face. I've missed my crew. I missed you."

Plates pulled tight, he looked up at that, and Shepard was sure she made out a low rumble. Awkwardly, he reached out his own hand and placed it on hers in return. "I know the feeling. C-Sec… well, let's just say it was nothing compared to being with you on the Normandy." His eyes widened a little at the familiarity of that comment. "Serving under you, that is to say."

She snorted, and, awkwardness be damned, pulled the larger Turian in for a friendly hug, knowing very well that they weren't a touchy-feely race like she was. Armour clanked where it collided and screeched as she squeezed, and after some hesitation, he returned the gesture, patting her back lightly.

"Glad to have you back on board, in that case. You're exactly what I need right now Garrus: a friend." She pulled back, giving one last pat on the shoulder and taking a step back, giving him his space again. "We've still got Blood Pack and Blue Suns left. Think we can make a break for it?"

He coughed, as he always used to when their conversations turned back to business. "Maybe, let's see what they're up to." Scope to his eye, he stopped being Vakarian for a moment and was Archangel again. "They're reinforced the other side. Heavily. But they're not coming over the bridge yet. What are they waiting for?"

Shepard was about to explain their plan to infiltrate via the lower levels out the back when there was a loud bang, that shook the floor beneath them and threw her off balance for a moment. Instantly, she focused her barrier again.

"What the hell was that?" Miranda shouted, backing into the room from the landing, pistol drawn. From the corner of the balcony, where he had been stood, Jacob glanced over his shoulder but kept his eyes on the bridge.

Garrus was rapidly working away on his omni-tool, reading, entering keystrokes, reading again, eyes flicking back and forth across the display. "Damn it, they've breached the lower level. Well, they had to use their brains eventually. You'd better get down there, Shepard. I'll keep the bridge clear."

She was reluctant to leave him alone again, she didn't know how long he had been holding this position for, and while he had been on better from with the added drive that came from backup, it was a very pressing concern of hers that he was lagging. "Let's split up two and two – keep one of my team here."

"You sure? Who knows what you'll find down there" He was already assuming the position on his perch, but shot her an equally worried look. Shepard supposed she had to allow him that, since out of the two of them, she was the one that had actually died.

Inspecting both her teammates, she weighed up who she trusted to do which job more. Give her an order, and Miranda would follow it to the letter, but Jacob was more compassionate and took more notice of the people around him. If she told Miranda to keep her old friend alive, she would damn sure do it, but more importantly, Jacob was showing more of an ability to adapt to her chaotic Vanguard attacks, never staying out of range with his shotgun, of the two of them the more reassuring when the last thing she needed was to be alone and flanked. She made her decision.

"Miranda, stay with Garrus. Keep him alive."

The look that followed between the two women said that she damn well meant that last part.

!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i

This had suddenly become even more stressful than it had been initially, she thought idly, as she ran full pelt back from where she had been, closing the shutters, as the Blood Pack broke in through the back door. She could hear gunfire and Garm shouting orders as she traced her steps through the corridors, hurdling obstacles here and there, charging forward so often as she could and Jacob could keep up with. The adrenaline rush of their last fight was wearing off, and the overthinking was kicking in again. Silently, she thanked her own good thinking for leaving him backup.

Turning the corner, she ran quickly through the door and skidded to a halt to the side of where the mercenaries had arrived. Without hesitation, she drew her pistol for the longer range and shot one of them in the neck, watching as he gurgled red, clutching at the gaping wound and collapsing before holstering it and readying the charge.

Sending a shockwave ahead of her, she closed in on her target, taking one of them down with the powerful charge, and then another with her blade as he stood, dazed and hurt from the shockwave, too surrounded to risk detonating the nova that was just itching to be released, she made for one of the most distant targets with another charge, this time able to give off the powerful blast that coursed through her and take cover behind a sofa to recharge her barrier. She saw just over the back of the chair that the Krogan leader was making his way up the stairs, seemingly unphased by the hail of bullets that fell on him, courtesy of Miranda and Garrus.

Growling ferally, she charged back at the group he had arrived with, taking out one as the other dropped from a shotgun blast by Jacob. A few more filed in as she charged up the stairs after Garm, but she knew it was nothing that Garrus alone wouldn't have been able to pick off, let alone with the help of the other two.

There was a crash as her target charged as he got through the door, and his voice filled her helmet, strained. "Shepard, I'm pinned down, we need cover." She charged ahead herself, pulling the pistol back out as she tried to place Krogan and allow herself time to prepare the next and spotted Garrus crouched at the end of the room, as Garm rounded on him with his shotgun.

"Miranda! Warp that barrier!" She shouted, firing off a few rounds to chip away at what would be vulnerable armour by the time the bullets met the newly warped target and giving another charge. It was enough to give Garrus time to retreat and let his shields recharge, and under the renewed efforts of the three of them, the Krogan fell, peppered with wounds, in particular a nasty hole where his left eye had been before and an omni-blade to the throat.

There was silence around them, and Shepard let out a long held breath and wiped her blade on the upholstery of the couch next to her, before striding across the room to offer a hand to Garrus, prone behind an end table.

"Tough bastards, but we made it." He muttered, taking the offered hand, though perhaps through politeness since he didn't really seem to put any weight behind it as he hauled himself off the floor. He clapped her across the shoulders and gestured at the mess in the apartment below them, where Jacob was checking that none of the bodies needed a double tap via a shotgun to the face. "And we took out Garm and his Blood Pack. This day just gets better and better. He was one tough son of a bitch."

Shepard rolled her eyes and began gathering thermal clips from the dead, tossing a few back to the others when she had as many as she had space for. "Your definition of a better day, Garrus, has me concerned for what to expect when you're back on my ship. I'm going to be hard pressed to keep you from boredom."

He gave a rare bark of laughter as he reloaded and restocked the spare ammo slots in his armour. "If you'd wondered why I left C-Sec, Shep, there's your answer. Nothing quite compares to the thrill of your company." He seemed to decide what he had said overstepped a boundary when he saw Miranda's disapproving glance up as she reloaded her weapons and listened to their camaraderie. "It sure beat standing idle and playing with the Mako."

Shaking her head, she couldn't hide her grin. It made her feel human again, to be able to have a joke and banter with someone again, as though the metal and plastics beneath her skin didn't still feel foreign to her. That he just fell in line like it hadn't been two years ago, even if it was just for now while they weren't addressing the underlying current of tension that was their separate issues, was a comforting reminder that she was still herself. She didn't feel like she was being watched and assessed like she did with the humans on her team. "Come on now, Garrus, we both know it sure beat being in the damn thing."

He nodded in agreement. Checking the barricade through his scope briefly to make sure there were no imminent surprises. "Three packs of mercs and cornered. I still like those odds better than that tank and your very loose understanding of how gravity interacts with driving and mountains."

"Well, it's lucky we haven't got the Mako anymore, I suppose." That cut too close to the reality of how they had come here, and there was a pregnant pause in conversation. She moved to next to him, squinting down the bridge, Miranda loitered at the edge of their conversation. Time to get back to work. "Only the Blue Suns are left. I say we take our chances and fight our way out."

Looking back to her, he gave a dull hum and lowered the rifle. "I think you're right. Tarak's got the toughest group, but nothing we haven't faced before. Besides, he won't be expecting us to meet him head on-"

He stopped, a bright light shone in through the blinds at the window. Freezing, all of them turned to face the window, and on seeing the faint outline of an aircraft dove in separate ways for cover. She heard the glass shatter as machine guns whirred and mercenaries swung in the void of the window. "Jacob, get that shotgun away. We have different toys to play with!" She called over her shoulder, pulling out her SMG, mindful of working some shields down.

"You're gonna have to stay in cover, ma'am, think you can manage that?" He called back.

Twitching to glance back, she smirked. Like Miranda, she wouldn't trust him until she knew where his loyalties lay, but maybe finding Garrus here had cheered her up somewhat, because the guy wasn't half bad. "Jacob, really. I _can_ be flexible."

!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i!i

It had almost been too easy, her earlier sabotage had dealt with their biggest and loudest problem quickly enough, and between the four of them, they fell into the rhythm of tearing down shields, armour and eventually flesh, even if they had to do so from under the strictest of cover for most of the fight. They began the process of checking for any last hidden threats and recovering clips.

"See? And you doubted me." She admonished in a sing-song voice, moving deftly through the furniture and corpses, far too cheerful for a woman surrounded by the dead and faced with a near impossible task when they god out of her.

Garrus turned, mouth open, as if to say something, when a crackly, distorted voice blared out over a speaker, and unsteadily, the bright lights returned outside the window – the airship must have been more repaired than she had hoped.

"Archangel!"

"Garrus!"

Both shouts went out at once, and time seemed to slow around her. He turned towards the light in shock, gun raised as Shepard ran towards him, desperately, in her panic, working to build a charge to knock him to cover, but even as she was making her second step he met the spray of the machine gun and fell to the floor, crawling to cover.

"You think you can screw with the Blue Suns!"

She froze as she had to divert her attention to her barrier against the aircraft, the charge failing. Her ears rang loudly, everything around her muffled and quiet, pushing forward she saw him sit, his back against the planter he had pulled himself behind, every plate in his face clenched into place with pain. He leaned his head out of cover at the pause in the fire and her eyes widened as, with a flash, the airship released a missile straight at him.

The explosion rocked her where she stood, and the planter smashed into debris, while the Turian was thrown backwards violently. She heard herself cry his name again, and snapped back to reality, ducking around the corner, staring at him where he lay on the ground, not moving, face down. Her face hardened, and she glanced through the shelving to the airship, and reached onto her back for the Big Gun. That bastard was going to pay for that. He was going to pay for that with a grenade or two to the face.

Seizing her moment, she rolled sideways from cover, lined up her shot and fired, making contact, taking out half the remaining armour. She winced as it returned fire, tearing through her barrier with ease but took a deep breath and made a second shot. This time it went down.

Taking only a second to establish that it was down for good, she dropped the grenade launcher with a loud clatter and ran, dropping and skidding a little onto her knees at the side of her old friend where he lay, in a pool of sickeningly bright blue blood. Her hand hovered over his waist and she took in the dents and bullet holes, looking for signs of life, her stare finally reaching his face, she saw a flicker of movement beneath his black eyelids. Suddenly, they opened wide and he took a deep rattling breath.

"Garrus!" She gasped, leaning further down, holding tightly onto the armour on his cowl, bringing her omni-tool down to scan for injuries while simultaneously trying to raise the Normandy. Carefully, she rolled him onto his back, panic rising in her chest again. "We're getting you out of here, Garrus. Just hold on."

_No, no, no no, no._ Her brain screamed as she tried to stay calm, listening to the bloody gurgle of his breathing, the shallow gasps, trying desperately to maintain eye contact, to look at anything but the gory, gaping wound where his right mandible had been before and now barely hung on, but his eyes were darting around wildly in fear. Next to her, Jacob fumbled with a medi-gel dispenser to try to staunch the bleeding and provide some pain relief. _I just found you again, you can't leave me. Not like this._ "Radio Joker. Make sure they're ready for us."

"We'd better hurry, he looks bad" Jacob frowned, looking unsure of himself as he tried to figure out the best places to treat first. Inwardly she cursed Cerberus. Humanity first wouldn't help them, not now.

Garrus' eyes finally found her face and locked onto her, his blue eyes meeting her unnaturally green ones, and a hand shot up, finding her upper arm and holding on tightly. Tentatively, she reached down and cupped the left side of his face, her eyes welling up. He couldn't die, not now. Not when she'd just found him again. She was failing her crew all over again. "Hold on, Garrus." She repeated, not looking away. "Just hold on."


	2. All Around Me

**A/N**: Like I said last time, taking canon and character and injecting the bits that would be missing for my Learning to Breathe universe. There will be familiar scenes, some tweaks to dialogue and relationships, and some entirely new bits that felt right to the people my Shakarian will be in their future.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Mass Effect, which I do not, there would be a carefully hidden Easter Egg of Garrus dancing with feathers to trumpets. For the fun of it.

* * *

.

The minute they were out of the airlock, he was rushed on a stretcher to the med-bay, Chakwas and Mordin talking to eachother rapidly, taking vitals, examining the wound, injecting this or that into the hide beneath his armour at the joints of it where his black undersuit showed through. As they wheeled him away, Shepard tore her helmet off and threw it to the ground, biotics blazing.

She raised a finger to Miranda, rage etched on every line in her face. "You knew! You knew it was him! You should have told me!"

Gone was the laughter and mirth they had all shared briefly on the mission, gone was the ease and fondness she had been beginning to feel for the operative here and there. All she knew was that her friend, right now her only friend, might be dying down in the med-bay because they had left it so late in getting to him. "We should have gone right away, we should have been there sooner to get him out of there! They wouldn't have done as many repairs to that fucking gunship if we had gotten there sooner! Why didn't you tell me?" She spat the last sentence, rounding on her menacingly.

To her credit, the woman stood her ground and kept her cool. "You need to calm yourself, Commander. This isn't a conversation to be having in front of the crew."

"To hell with that!" She shouted, "I'm not like you, Miranda, I don't _hide things_ from my people! So what if they hear? There are no secrets on my ship. We need to be able to trust each other to work together."

Infuriatingly, Miranda simply raised an eyebrow at her. "Commander, I will say it again. It is inappropriate for us to have this conversation in front of the crew. Your behaviour is unprofessional and overly emotional."

"Ok then." She said icily, striding off at speed to where the stairs used to be, only to remember she needed to take an elevator now. She remained silent. When they got to the deck below, she got off, determinedly not looking to the med-bay, though she noted out of the corner of her eye the window was currently shuttered, and headed straight to Miranda's quarters, the operative following closely behind her.

The minute she was in there, she strode straight to the desk and her neatly organised paperwork and things and let off the biggest Nova she could muster, which, in her anger, was fairly large. Having expected this, Miranda had hung back by the door. The table broke beneath the force of it, and papers, datapads and the broken screen of her terminal flew around the room. If she had not made herself plain enough, the three successive shockwaves she let off as she panted, ripping through the other end of the room as well, would certainly do so.

"Are you quite done?" The woman at the door asked, sounding bored. The Vanguard in front of her was a Paragon of the Alliance, but had a red-hot temper on her, particularly when pressured with a decision she didn't like but knew she would have to make, or a situation that was beyond her control. Miranda had read the profile, and it was precisely this that made her want to implant the control chip.

Staring, out of breath, Shepard seemed to gain some semblance of control, but still giving her a look that would have pierced right through a lesser person. "EDI, contact requisitions, we're gonna need duplicates of everything Ms Lawson owns. And make sure you have a recent back-up of her terminal data."

"Yes Commander." The AI responded.

"Why. Didn't. You. Tell. Me." She repeated slowly, punctuating each word with a pause, fists tightly clenched at her sides.

"Because I knew that given your history, you would not be able to make a level headed decision about the priority of our potential recruits. Every second we waste could be the life of another colonist. It also occurred to me that should Vakarian refuse to join us on our mission, you would react negatively. Both of these things you have just provided the evidence for."

Moving to sit down on a chair at the side of the room that had mostly escaped her fury and was just a little askew, she took a deep breath and leaned into her hands. "If we had gone sooner-"

"If we had gone there sooner, they would have been at the full strength of their assault as we pushed across the bridge and would have lacked the advantage Vakarian held from his position. He would have gunned us down in the fray by mistake or we would have been slaughtered by the mercenaries, who would have been greater in number than they were at the time of our crossing." The way she spoke was so clinical, so detached. She spoke as though they weren't both covered in sticky blue blood belonging to the Turian just across the Mess Hall from them. "And before you tell me, I know that doesn't make it the right decision to not tell you, half of this is backed up by hindsight. There wasn't a right decision to be made, I just made the one that seemed to have the best possible outcome based on the information I had available." She made a face and dipped her head in Shepard's direction minutely. "Admittedly more information than was made available to you."

Shepard nodded and stood. She supposed that was the closest she would get to an apology, and perhaps she owed one herself for the devastation she had caused in the womans workspace. The words wouldn't come out though. Gesturing mutely around she opened her mouth and closed it again. "I shouldn't have done this, it was excessive. It won't happen again."

"It can be replaced, Commander. I will put in a request to have some training equipment installed in the Hangar Bay. My quarters might be safer that way." She took a step forward, casting a wistful eye over the destruction and frowning. "Might I suggest you get cleaned up and wait in the Briefing Room while the doctor works?"

"Good idea." She croaked, hanging her head and pushing past and through the door.

Although she didn't quite think they made showers or soap strong enough to wash away the blue blood that stained her hands.

* * *

.

Later, as she leaned against the table again as she had before setting off, she felt exhaustion creep through the very bones of her. It was a day that never seemed to end, especially in the cold of space. Though the Normandy was still not half way into its night cycle, she couldn't remember what time she had disembarked in the day cycle to know how long it had been. Miranda had stopped by not long ago to check on her and suggest she try to sleep, but Shepard had simply shrugged, still not saying a word. She couldn't possibly sleep until she knew, either way.

Finally, the door whirred and Jacob came in, looking grim. "Commander." He greeted, coming to a rest leaning on the table opposite her. "We've done what we could for Garrus, but he took a bad hit."

Stiffening, she focused on the pattern in the grain of the wooden table, knuckles white as they gripped the edge. Fear paralyzed her again, and she wasn't sure she wanted to hear what he had to say.

"The docs corrected with surgical procedures and some cybernetics. Best we can tell, he'll have full functionality, but…"

The weight lifted and she gave a sigh of relief, throwing her head back to stare at the ceiling and will her eyes to clear. "Damn it Jacob, if it's good news don't start with 'We've done what we could'." She mumbled, more to herself than anything. The door whirred again and she looked up, startled, to see Garrus stood in the door.

"Shepard." He said somewhat gruffly, stood tall in the doorway, as if trying to prove that a little thing like the pink and raw scarring to the right side of his face – and that was only the parts she could see outside of the dressing –weren't going to get him down. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hide her frown and she took in the damage. He was definitely not that young, aspiring C-Sec Officer any more.

Jacob gave a laugh and raised his eyebrows. "Tough son of a bitch. Didn't think he'd be up yet."

Smiling, she turned and gave him a quick sweep for any more damage. The machine gun didn't seem to have done that much too him, though she noticed he was holding himself a little more stiffly on one side than the other, trying to take some weight off the left that had taken the brunt of the initial burst of fire as he moved to cover. "That's only because you don't know him like I do, Jacob." She said at last, satisfied that the facial scarring was the worst of it.

"Nobody would give me a mirror. How bad is it?" He asked tentatively, moving into the room, hand waving lightly at the side of his face.

She smirked, she should probably be more sympathetic, but it was too much of an opportunity to pass up on, "Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there and no one will even notice."

He gave a short chuckle ad winced, working mandible pulling in tightly at the pain. "Don't make me laugh, damn it. My face is barely holding together as it is." Fidgeting, he scratched at the huge crater in the cowl of his armour and looked at the floor, hesitating a little. "_Some_ women find facial scars attractive. Mind you, most of those women are Krogan…"

There was silence. Taking his cue to leave the two to talk, remembering all too well the emotional outburst she had immediately on return, Jacob snapped to a rigid salute and left the room. Garrus watched him leave before walking further into the room, taking position at the end of the table just across the corner from the side she had been sitting at. Waiting to make sure they were definitely alone before he spoke, he watched her intently. "Cerberus?" He asked simply, his flanging tone speaking volumes.

"I did tell you that I needed a friend." She replied. From this side of him, she couldn't inspect the scarring, and she wasn't entirely sure that was accidental. "I need someone I can trust, Garrus. I don't know what we're walking into here, and I don't like it. I don't like having only Cerberus to watch my back."

He hummed to himself quietly. "Yes, friends you can trust seem quite the commodity these days. Or in your case, friends who can keep up with you dancing around out of cover and any discernable formation. You realise of course you've got me walking into hell right behind you again, Shepard?"

That gave her some pause, and she drummed her fingers on the side of the table, staring at her feet, suddenly feeling guilty. She'd been so caught up in her relief at seeing him again that she'd not stopped to think about what she was asking of him. It was very different to sauntering up to a stranger and waving a paycheck and a good cause. "You volunteered last time, asked for it, if I recall correctly." She was teasing, but when she looked up her face was wary, "But this is your choice. If you're not comfortable working with me anymore, we can find you somewhere safe to go from here. I will undertstand. I- I saw Tali on Freedom's Progress." Her voice broke a little at the idea that he might leave her the way the Quarian had. "She wouldn't stay."

He leaned across and elbowed her gently. "Come on, now, Commander. You saved my life in more than the literal sense of the phrase. I'm not leaving you. No matter who you work for. I trust your judgement, even if I don't trust my own. And Tali? Well, give her some time. She might come around."

"Here's hoping." She replied quietly, wringing her hands in front of her, a mix of anxiety and flutters of happiness that he wouldn't be leaving her just yet. "I, er, I ordered you a new set of armour. It's based on the specifications of the one you're wearing, just a little less 'I-took-a-missile-to-the-face'. I hope that isn't a problem, I can cancel it if you don't want it, I don't want to make you uncomfortable. It suddenly feels like I'm throwing Cerberus credits at you to stay, it made sense at the time."

Turning, she picked up a datapad from the table and pulled up the set that she had placed a requisition for, before passing it over. He grinned on one side of his face as he checked it over, nodding approvingly. "Very nice, Commander. Fire fights, near death, shiny new things… you do know how to spoil a Turian." He handed it back to her, and she held it for a moment, considering the purchase before putting it down gently. "You did pick the wrong colour, mind. I'm just going to have to recoat that." He gave an exaggerated sigh of disdain.

"Now, now, Garrus. Cerberus don't do blue." She grumbled, glancing at her casuals' cuffs. "Miranda scowled so hard when she saw I'd resurfaced my armour in Alliance blue I thought she might have been having a stroke."

"Speaking of new shiny things." He started up again and took a few steps around, gesturing at the ceiling. "I had a quick look around when I left the med bay – needed to find somewhere to set my things – this is looking very flashy. The upgrades they stuck in the old girl when they rebuilt her… I wish we'd joined Cerberus sooner."

"We haven't joined them." She said stiffly. "They're funding our mission. That's all." Taking a moment to consider the table in front of her, she hopped up onto it, crossing her legs. "I did try to explain that to Tali too."

"Relax Shepard, it's just a figure of speech." He sighed and moved back to the table leaning against it again. "I can't exactly doubt your judgement. Not after I got my squad killed."

Using her hands, she twisted herself around on the table so that she was facing him, the unscarred left side again. Suddenly, his refusal to leave that position before they managed to corner him like that and those neatly lined up body bags all made sense. Without questioning how he came to be on Omega in the first place with a team of his own, as a Vigilante none the less, she took the plunge and decided to pry. "How did it happen?"

He didn't stand long under the concern and pity in her gaze, and twitched standing again, pacing restlessly. To her recollection, she didn't think she'd ever seen such a level of conflict and despair in him, even when he spoke to her about Doctor Saleon before. He seemed to be deciding where to start, exactly how much to tell her. "It was my own damn fault." Garrus growled, his voice dripping with anger. "I was betrayed. One of my people. Sidonis." The pacing grew more frantic. "Drew me away from our position. Mercs ambushed the rest. Everyone except me is dead because of him. Because I didn't see it coming."

When he came to a stop, she stood and placed a hand on his arm as she had before on Omega. Though he wouldn't feel much more than a light pressure through his battered armour, she felt the need to offer the gesture. Without her prompting, he continued, refusing to look her in the eye. "Asked for help. Lured me away. I got to our meeting point, but there was no one there. I- I could tell something was wrong."

With a sigh, he sat down, back against the wall, and closed his eyes. Shepard followed suit, choosing to stay to his left again, since that seemed to be the way he preferred it right now, and waited for him to continue. "By the time I got back to our hideout, mercs had killed all but two of my squad. And they didn't last long."

She shook her, head. It seemed that horrible imagining she had when she found him of being trapped there as everyone around her was dying wasn't that far off the mark after all. Words of consolation crossed her mind, but they seemed hollow and pointless. She felt the urge to pull him into another embrace, like she had before, but knew that was probably more of a human thing and quite invasive of her while he was vulnerable like this.

"Do you know where he is now?" Asked Shepard at length, the offer of help and revenge implicit. Though she knew all too well that when it came to pulling the trigger, it wouldn't help him. Sooner or later she'd need to have that conversation, but for now, while it was all still so painful to the Turian, it would be a thought that would strengthen him, and keep him going until he was ready to move on.

Opening his eyes he inspected his gloved talons. They felt a little cramped in his gloves from the long time spent in hiding, he would need to file them back soon. "No. His trail vanishes after he leaves Omega." When he looked up from his hands and back at Shepard, there was a fire and wrath in those eyes that frightened her a little with how foreign it seemed. "I lost my whole team, except for Sidonis. One day, I'll find him… and correct that."

Before either of them could say another word, he stood and brushed himself off, as if he could clear his thoughts by the gesture. He made straight for the door. "Thank you for the talk, Shepard. And the new armour, I do appreciate it. I'm going to head to the Main Battery and see what I can do with the guns."

Jumping to her feet, she caught his arm. He stopped, but didn't look back or give any further indication he had noticed her. "Thank you, Garrus." She said quietly. "If you need me again I'll be here. I mean it… I'm glad to have you on board."

With a barely perceptible nod, he stalked away. Shepard bit the inside of her cheek as she watched him leave, battered and broken. Sadness overwhelmed her, not entirely her own. Somehow, she didn't think that she was the only one who needed a friend right now.

* * *

.

When she finally felt ready to leave that room and face the world, Kelly Chambers was waiting for her. They exchanged a few cursory words about Garrus and how he was doing, before the woman fidgeted a little and played with some hair behind her ear.

"Spit it out." Shepard ordered roughly, "Come on, whatever it is. I'm too tired right now for niceties." She added, by way of apology for the tone.

"Well, it's just… Ms Lawson asked that I give this to you, Commander. The Illusive Man found something he thought you might like to see." She turned around and pulled another folder full of datapads and holo-images from her desk, much like the dossiers she had been given for the new members of her crew.

Curiously, she took the folder and started to look through them, but almost dropped the lot in horror as she recognised what they were. She forced it back in the hands of the Yeoman, shaking all over. "No. No. Absolutely not. Not now, not ever."

"It might do you some good, Commander." Kelly reasoned, placing it back on her desk, none-the-less. "Maybe help you get some closure over the matter."

She could feel herself breaking into a cold sweat as those unpleasant memories came flooding back. "I said no, Chambers."

"But, Shepard-"

It was too late to argue, as she was already at the elevator doors. "I can't and I won't. No further discussion."

Only when she was in the safe confines of her cabin did she allow herself to cry over the holo-images of the twisted and bent metal strewn across the icy wastes of a planet she recognised all too well, feeling the walls close in around her as the terror rose within her and it all came flooding back. Between wracking sobs she told herself to breathe and to calm down, until eventually tiredness won out and she found herself numb, if not calm on the floor.

As she slipped out of her casuals she looked around the empty fish tank and display cabinet, before padding into the empty bed. Loneliness overcame her, and she curled up, cocooning herself in the warm blanket and pillows, shaking and holding back tears again. This was all so unlike her, but she supposed it was all still so new. All soldiers were warned in basic about post-traumatic stress, but whether it was losing a friend, losing a fight, the Skyllian Blitz or being spaced, nothing ever prepared them for it. She knew it would take time, but she wasn't quite sure how to deal with it amongst a crew made up of only strangers.

Her mind wandered back to Kaidan, as it had before they'd arrived at Omega. He'd always been there to listen to her prattle on when things bothered her, as she had done for him. She couldn't quite identify or place the affection she had for him, still, but she certainly missed having a confidante to pick her up when she was feeling like this. A beer off duty, here and there, a laugh and a joke on quiet moments of their shifts, even her fumbling romantic gestures near the end kept her mind off of the worst of it.

Eventually, watching the stars drift by overhead out of the unshuttered window, she fell into a fitful sleep.

That night she dreamed that she was running through that corridor, back from lowering the shutters at the back entrance, except she was alone, and rather than running to the sounds of gunfire, there was a deafening, eerie silence all around her. The corridor stretched on and on, the corners seemed beyond count, and as she approached each one she had the same dissatisfying build of apprehension with no relief as the rounded to find yet more corridor and more barriers for her to hurdle across, it was exhausting as she tried to approach each one with the same momentum and the same determination as the one before it.

Eventually, she came to the door, dizzy and out of breath, unsteady on her feet from the endless running. There was no reassuring hum of biotics through her body, and her pistol felt loose in her hand. She tried to hold it ready, but her hands were shaking and useless, and she could barely focus her eyes down the barrel of it, disoriented as she was.

There was no one there however, the apartment was empty. She glanced to her left, and felt the swell of nausea as she saw the line of body bags, and a morbid curiosity drew her towards them. _I need to know_ she thought desperately, _I just need to know_.

Her feet felt like lead, heavy and dragging as she made her way towards the nearest one, the smell of blood and death permeating through the bag. She kneeled beside it her pistol forgotten on the floor, hands trembling violently as she fought with the latch and zipper, her body reluctant to fulfil the brain's wishes to peel it back.

Anguish ripped through her like a knife as she pulled back the cover inch by inch to reveal Ashley, and even as she heard her own cries they seemed foreign to her. Hastily she pulled it back and crawled to the next one. Wrex. And the next. Liara. Then Tali. Then Garrus. Joker. Even Miranda and Jacob. Giving a gasping sob, she pushed herself to her feet, grabbing her gun as she went, staggering forward with the momentum.

The stairs seemed so steep and her thighs protested with each step she took, the muscles burning and joints aching, and she had to half drag herself up by the railing, clutching the pistol to her side with the other hand. When she finally made it to the top she fell, crawling to the door that lead to the upper floor with the balcony, pulling herself upright as she made it to the frame.

Taking a few careful steps into the room, she saw another figure sprawled in the middle of the floor, armour broken and punctured in several places. Moving as quickly as her feet woud allow, she threw herself on the floor, gun dropping with a heavy clatter, cradling the familiar face of Kaidan Alenko in her hands, taking in his injuries, the bloody mess on the side of his face, the bloody mess that didn't seem entirely to belong to him.

"No, No. Not you too" She moaned, pressing her hands against his neck as he gurgled and fought for breath, trying to get his eyes to focus on her face. Looking at her wrist, she saw that she had no omni-tool to call for help, and the comms in her suit were not far-reaching enough to hail for help. "Fight for me, please. Fight it."

The gurgle was turning to a shallow spluttering and the blood spilled out around her fingers, warm and bright red, she couldn't staunch the flow and he was struggling for breath. "Don't leave me alone here" She pleaded, feeling her eyes fill, "Stay with me."

But the spluttering even had stopped, and his body twitched a few times before coming a rest. Disbelieving, she pushed away and forced herself to her feet, swaying slightly, staring at the blood on her hands, the metallic stink of it filling her every breath. There was a noise and a bright light outside the window. Shepard looked up slowly, and made no effort to move out of the way.

She snapped awake in her cabin as her alarm went off on the bedside table. Her face felt sticky and unpleasant from her crying the night before, and she sat up quickly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and switching off the alarm. Shepard got straight up, as if putting distance between herself and the bed would clear the nightmare from her head.

She needed to get on with her day. She needed to learn to push on through the pain and the paranoia that she would fail them all. Giving in to it would be a self-fulfilling prophecy. She needed to talk to someone, get some time apart from her own thoughts. Better yet, she needed to shoot something. With quiet snort at her own natural reaction to stress, she headed towards the shower. Yesterday had been traumatising.

Today was going to be better.

* * *

.

Beginning the day by setting their course for the Citadel, she reasoned they could get some supplies for the new crew members, as their emergency rations for foreign species might last a week or two, but they weren't very comprehensive. It occurred to her that aside from Garrus' need for his own food, though Mordin and Salarians _could_ eat human food, they probably didn't like it very much. She also needed to pick up their Theif and had received a message from Anderson requesting a meeting, which hopefully could be arranged.

Picking up a ration bar and a cup of tea, wincing at the sugary and plastic like taste to it as in deep space real tea leaves or tea bags were a rarity, she popped into the lab to visit the aforementioned Salarian to see if there was anything in particular he needed or wanted, they also spoke a little of his work with the STG.

"The Genophage? Really?" She raised her eyebrows and sipped from her mug. "Remind me to never introduce you to Wrex." And the Warlord they were recruiting sometime soon, she mentally noted.

"Necessary." He said simply, not looking up from his experiment. Shepard had no experience in his body language, but his movements seemed jerkier even than normal. He recited, as though by rote, the reasoning behind it, but it was said with the same matter-of-fact tone as the facts he would often spout off. It lacked the same conviction he'd had the day before when expressing the need to cure the plague.

"The genocide of an entire species? That doesn't seem necessary to me. It was wrong." She challenged.

He looked up at her, taking a miniscule pause. "Naïve. Have to look at the bigger picture. Krogan rebellion bloody. Their aggression was unchecked. Alternative was to wipe them out completely. Genophage was _population control_. Tweak the odds. Give them the chance to grow as a species."

Shepard gulped back the rest of the brew in her cup and considered Saren's breeding ground on Virmire. The prospect of a Krogan army at his control had been horrifying to everyone who ever learnt of those plans, and the idea of an organic and intelligent population of them working in much the same way to conquer and destroy was somewhat chilling. But to her, it came down to the fact that in the end, they had been raised too high too fast by the Salarians in the first place. Their reasoning wasn't so noble: it was to save themselves. "Justification with hindsight, Mordin. You played with fire; you got burnt. The genophage pulled your asses out of that fire." Not wanting to offend the man, she continued, "Whatever your reasoning and your part in it, you don't seem like the kind of guy to make big decisions like that without believing that what you were doing was for the best, and I can't hold that against you. I guess we'll have to agree to disagree with you on that one."

He was quiet for a moment, focused intently on the work in front of him, but his hands and mouth still, absent of the fidgeting and muttering. "Yes. I suppose we will. You don't like it, you don't have to take me on your team. Will stay here and carry out research on Collectors instead. Nice talking to you, Shepard. Have work to do. Maybe later, when there's less to do?"

Picking up her empty mug, she nodded politely to him, quietly pleased to have made some sort of connection at more than a professional level. "Absolutely. Get back to me if you do think of anything you want me to pick up."

Exiting the tech lab, it crossed her mind that maybe she should check in with Jacob, but she was still too irritated with the two humans on her ground team for keeping things from her and headed straight to the lift back down to the mess. It wouldn't be unreasonable to think that he hadn't actually known as Miranda had, but given that all data on Cerberus' cell structures was blocked on EDI, she found it safer to assume that he would be high ranking enough to have had an idea.

As she made her way round to the kitchen to give the cup a rinse, she glanced up at the Main Battery, where Garrus had told her the night before he would be headed. Though she knew that really she should leave him to have some space to grieve, Mordin had declined to come with her on the Citadel, and she really did not relish the idea of being stuck with Miranda again, or not being able to speak freely to Anderson when she saw him. Besides, the change of scenery might do him good.

"Gardner, has Officer Vakarian left the Battery to get some breakfast?" She asked.

"Not that I've seen, Commander. Commander, I've heard that we're docking at the Citadel…"

She rooted through the cupboards to find the emergency dextro nutrient supplements – which sounded about as appetising as they looked – and listened absently to the cook as he blamed his terrible cooking on their supplies, agreeing to get him some more, which would be easily done while she shopped to replace the grim looking paste she had found and then headed over to the Main Battery.

Though she wasn't sure what else she had been expecting, she was surprised to see him up and already working away at a terminal in front of the Disrupter Torpedoes. In the background, she could see a low cot hastily constructed in a corner with a small locker.

"Vakarian." She greeted, tossing him the container as he turned from what he was doing, which he caught and screwed his face up at, the way certain plates overlapped when he did this looked uncomfortable. "I did not save your scaly hide for you to starve yourself."

He bit the top of the tube off and sniffed it gingerly. "I was just wondering where you were, Shepard. I've had some ideas about the guns, and, well… the torpedoes are lacking a little. I did a little prying on the extranet and found some schematics for something the Hierarchy has been working on since Sovereign attacked."

"Do share." She was busy looking around interestedly. She'd never really been one for the tech-y side of things, and had laughed when she had been offered training as an engineer back in her training days. Hacking was one thing, but she'd never really been one for the fine details.

"It's called a Thanix Canon" He must have been eating whatever that paste was, because his voice sounded slightly off, muffled and nasal. She could hear him tapping at something in the background as she craned her neck at a monitor tucked away that had numbers streaming down it endlessly. How he made sense of any of this was beyond her. "We sort-of reverse engineered using the remains of Sovreign. Deadly, very powerful, would give us a much better edge against the Collectors."

She turned back to him just in time to see him knock back the last of the contents of the tube and blink rapidly in disgust, giving a trill. "What's the catch then?"

"Needs fifteen thousand platinum and a heavy injection of credits." He looked to the side uncomfortably and scratched the back of his neck. "I know it's not cheap, but I can't help but wonder if the SR-1 had been able to defend itself a little better..."

She grimaced and hopped up onto a counter. "Got you. Well, we're headed to the Citadel, but I'll see if Joker can't make a few pit stops along the way to probe for some resources. I'm sure Miranda can be persuaded to shell out for a good cause. Speaking of the Citadel, you're coming with me when we dock."

"Shepard-" He began, looking back at her, his mandibles pulled tight.

"We need dexto supplies for you." She reasoned.

"I can send you a list." He countered.

"I don't know where to look."

"I can send you details of relevant stores."

"I don't know my way around."

"I can send you a map."

Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him.

"With annotations?" He offered weakly.

Shepard would not be swayed. "It'll do you some good to have a wander and a stretch. I'm starting to think you like being holed up places."

Garrus folded his arms defensively, not backing down either. "I'm not quite ready to talk to anyone right now, let alone go back there."

"You're talking to me, aren't you?" She grinned, cocking an eyebrow. "That's halfway there."

"Yes, but you're _different_." He sighed, turning back to his console but not actually doing anything. "You're… I don't know. Just different."

Huffing loudly, she jumped down, leaning against the end of the counter his console was mounted on to his right. She knew that was a bit of a low move, since the fresh scars would sufficiently make him feel self-conscious enough to look at her again when she spoke, if only to turn them out of view. "Come on." She whined, the corner of her mouth twitching as her position had the desired effect. "Don't leave me with the humans."

He laughed at that, hand shooting up immediately to the side of his face in pain, face tensing. "You _are_ human, Shepard."

"I know, but we're a horrible bunch, aren't we?"

He had to clamp down to prevent himself laughing again. "Alright, fine. But I reserve the right to be a miserable bastard."

"Wouldn't be you if you weren't brooding." She said, overly cheerfully, patting his shoulder. "ETA should be approximately 7 hours if we try to make a few stops to scan along the way. Our cycle is lined up quite nicely to theirs at the moment, though not exact, so should get us there for approximately 1500 hours local time. That gives you plenty of time to figure out a way to make me wish I wasn't dragging you along. Or work out a way to make these canons of yours work on the Normandy, where to install them and such. Whichever you prefer."

Before he could argue or change his mind, she had gone, moving on with her rounds to check in with Chakwas before making her way down to engineering.


	3. The Good Left Undone

**A/N: Quite short today, but it seemed like the right place to leave off. Beginning of a few off-canon bits leading to LTB**

**Disclaimer: Universe isn't mine**

* * *

.

Life on the Normandy rarely had a quiet moment, and the next six hours flew by. Spending some time in orbit of a couple of planets, she had marked some resources for Miranda to arrange retrieval for, and very easily made her case for the canons and the various other ideas people on the ship had. She'd also had a flood of messages to respond to, some of them requiring further attention, adding them to her agenda of things to do, and some of them just needing a quick reply.

As she stepped out of the airlock with Garrus and Jacob, she stretched and inhaled deeply. While still artificial atmosphere, the air was fresher than the Normandy, and infinitely cleaner than that of Omega. She started to check her omni-tool for details of where to pick up Kasumi, when an advertising pillar to the side started talking to her. Giving a small smile of amusement, she shook her head and went ahead to engage the Theif. A few minutes later she returned, another human female in tow, who gave them a nod and a smile from below her hood, before disappearing aboard the Normany.

"I like that one, she's nice and cheerful." Shepard mused, nodding her head towards the queue for security, indicating they should go.

"Obviously doesn't know what we're up against." Garrus grumbled, folding his arms and inspecting the officers on duty.

"Well, we need someone to counterbalance your sunny disposition." She replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Following his line of sight, she paused. "You can relax, you know, you're going through with a dead Spectre on a mission with a terrorist organisation. If there's anyone here you knew, they're probably too busy to notice."

"I tried to reason on the way here that it would be nice to see how the place has changed. I changed my mind." He looked over his shoulder wistfully at the airlock of the Normandy. "Are you quite sure I can't just stay on the ship?"

Jacob gave a short chuckle, "Missile to the face won't keep you down, but the thought of an awkward conversation has you spooked?"

"I didn't leave on the best terms." He scratched the collar of his armour awkwardly. "And I don't suppose coming back with Cerberus is going to help much."

"If it's any consolation, I was the same the first time I came back after leaving the Alliance." He offered. "Miranda picked me up here, drinking myself to death, before the first mission I did with them. Got sick of nothing ever getting done."

The turian seemed surprised by that and turned to him, mandibles giving a twitch with curiosity. "Sounds like we both had similar problems."

"Bureaucracy." He said with disgust. "Don't even get me started."

"Much as I hate to cut short the male bonding." Shepard interrupted, eyeing the prominent logos on all of the equipment it could be squeezed onto. "Let's go back to the 'with Cerberus' thing. How are we even going to get in here, much less without being arrested?"

It wasn't comforting to see that he looked nervous about that himself, and she played with a buckle on her shoulder pad. She had died a Spectre, but she didn't know how that would affect her affiliation with them and where she stood now, and regardless of what would happen to her, she couldn't be certain whether any authority she might have left would extend to her crew.

"Technicalities." He said at length. "Any proven Cerberus Agents can and will be prosecuted by the Citadel Council, but if they have no proof and nothing to prosecute you for, there's nothing they can do but place us under heavy surveillance."

At that, Garrus gave a disgusted growl, voices flanging together in rage. "No offense, Jacob, but that's exactly one of the reasons I left here. Nothing worse than helplessly watching scum come and go as they please. Smugglers and thugs and murderers all wandering free because we couldn't touch them."

His reaction made that jump from C-Sec to Vigilante seem far less extreme, he'd barely been able to stand the 'red tape' when he came to work with her the first time, after the freedom he'd had aboard the SR-1, that could only have become completely intolerable. She couldn't help but wonder what it was exactly that made him leave. It had been a constant source of debate between the two of them before, that interplay of law and justice, of getting things done and of doing things right. His ruthless demeanour on the battlefield had proven useful more times than she could count, and was perhaps one of the things they had in common, but somewhere along the way it seemed to have bled out into the rest of his life. She remembered him as calm and polite, not angry and overwhelmed by guilt and doubt. It was hardly long ago, in her mind, it just didn't fit that it had been over two years now.

They shuffled forward in the queue, only a couple of people behind now. She sighed and clapped the two of them on the shoulders. "Well boys, if this goes well neither of you will have to worry about that stuff on my ship."

"I wouldn't go that far, Shepard." Jacob grinned. "Miranda will always be watching, after all."

She removed the hand to give the shoulder a punch instead, probably a little aggressive towards someone in light armour. "Christ, Taylor. I'm trying to lighten the mood here. But while we are on the subject, when we are in with Anderson, not a word of it goes back to her that I have not spoken myself. I decide how much she gets to know. If you aren't comfortable with that, you stay outside."

Frowning, he nodded. If he was unhappy with that order, what he had said to her before about Shepard calling the shots seemed to be the truth, so he would go along with it. "As you wish, but I will say, it does seem counter-productive to keep things from her."

"Oh, she'll get the essential information." She reassured. "I'm not going to endanger the mission on a grudge. But until I'm convinced I can trust her and your operation, I get to decide what exactly is essential. Anderson is an Alliance official and a friend. I don't want to be the one leaking classified information to a terrorist cell."

Garrus gave her what seemed like a slight approving nod, but Jacob pursed his lips, still apparently not happy about this. "Fine, for the sake of fairness… Garrus, since I only have minimal command of you, if you tell any of our secrets to the Hierarchy without expressed permission, I will find wherever Turians hide their junk and jam my Omni-blade there."

Clamping his mandibles tightly, he winced, shifting slightly. "Suddenly, I am far keener to tackle security than continue this train of thought."

Giving a laugh, she elbowed him. "You can't put a price on loyalty, Vakarian." One of the Sergeants at the desk motioned for them to come forward. "Now, let's get this over with and figure out where the embassies are from here."

She didn't know why he looked so worried about that in the first place. It was an empty threat for something he'd never do in the first place.

* * *

.

'_Still a Spectre. Still a Spectre. Still a Spectre!' _"Still a fucking Spectre!" She said the last part aloud as soon as they were around the corner, stopping and grinning broadly at her companions. "Such ingrates, after I saved their asses, as well. I was so close to telling them where to stick their help…"

"I know I would have." Garrus muttered. "Sparatus has always been asking for a bullet between the brow plates."

"Worked out in the end though." Jacob mused, "No help, but they're turning a blind eye to us for now."

Pulling a face, it briefly crossed her mind that she didn't think she liked the idea of the organisation running unchecked, but she supposed that didn't mean unwatched. Looking up, she met Garrus' eyes and gathered that he was thinking the same thing, she opened her mouth to speak, but he twitched his head minutely in Jacob's direction.

The man was nice, and easy to get along with. Undoubtedly one of the ones who genuinely had humanity's best interests at heart, and someone who, with time, she would trust just as implicitly as her old crew. The fact of the matter was, however, a conversation about his employers was probably one best not had in front of him.

"Jacob, we're going to pick up some supplies and run some errands. Is there any chance you can be persuaded to give us an hour or two?" She asked, to the point. "Hate to be rude, but Anderson gave me a lot to consider, not all of it relevant to the mission, and I'd like to mull it over for a bit."

The cogs were visibly ticking as he mulled over the thought of leaving them unsupervised and fulfilling his commanding officer's orders. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you that this won't go over well if it makes it back to the ship."

"Then it doesn't need to make it back to the ship." Shepard reasoned, "There's really nothing you could do with an hour or two of shore leave? Rig a holo over your insignia, you're just another visiting solider."

"Very well, Commander. I'll ping you in an hour or so."

They watched him head off back towards a restaurant they'd passed on Zakera before speaking. Garrus looked at her, concern etched on his face and took a step forward, lowering his voice. "Are you alright? They were pretty tough on you in there."

"The suspicion is to be expected. I think I actually got off pretty lightly." She shrugged, wrinkling her nose a little. "Still wanted to beat the crap out them, mind. Obstinate every one of them. They saw Sovereign with their own eyes and still won't listen to reason. Which direction is best to grab your food supplies?"

He gently took her elbow to steer her through the crowds of people in the right direction. "You know, that's part of the reason I hated being here so much after leaving the Normandy. Patrolling pointlessly to the sound of their propaganda, pinning it all on the Geth and doing their best to discredit everything we fought against Saren for. Making you sound like you'd cracked under the stress when I- damn it… when I knew you better than that."

They reached a quieter access corridor and he let go, stiffening, upright and closed off again. The longer she spent with him on the station, the more the pieces seemed to fall into place. "It wasn't just me, was it? They thought you were crazy too."

Shaking his head, he waved a hand as if to dismiss the implication. "Oh of course they did. To begin with I was welcomed back like a hero, offered a promotion, given all the best cases. But as time went on and the Geth story was circulated, the whole crew was tarred with the same brush." He gave a bitter laugh. "It sounds stupid, but it didn't bother me what they thought of me. I knew the truth. It bothered me more that they could think so little of you, when anyone who has ever met you could agree that you're the most incredible person in this damn universe."

She felt herself blushing deeply at that, and found herself glad that he was determined to not look at her. It was nothing she hadn't heard before at great ceremony, but coming from him it sounded different. It was sincere, it actually meant something. "Then what changed? What snapped?" She asked, when she had sufficiently shifted the lump in her throat from the compliment.

"You died." He said simply. "And for all the honours and dedications they seemed unsurprised. Relieved. They didn't seem to understand they had one less force for good fighting for justice in this world."

"So you stepped up?"

"I stepped up."

He didn't seem to want to talk about it any more than he already had, so she decided to drop the subject. It had given her plenty to think about for the time being. The thought of the whole crew being subject to ridicule made her blood boil, and she wondered where the rest of them were now, what lengths they had gone to in order to distance themselves from it.

"Here it is."

"Brilliant, let's get going. Get yourself some fresh supplies for now, I don't want to know how long it's been since you had a decent meal." She instructed, peering about interestedly at the strangely coloured and exotic looking food displays as he led them into the store. "We can set up a requisition line to the Normandy for reserves beyond that."

Hesitating, he eyed up a couple of packets with what she felt was a wistful look. "You sure, Commander? Won't your crew resent the special treatment?"

"I'm getting stuff for them too. And so what if I didn't? You're a friend. I'm allowed to take care of you." She glanced around to make sure that no one was watching before giving a suspicious poke to a packet of what her translator was displaying as assorted root vegetables, not missing the trill of amusement the turian gave her. "What? I'm sure our food looks just as strange to you."

"Strange? It looks downright vile sometimes." He teased, picking up a couple of bits. "Not the worst I've seen though. Disturbed an Elcor at dinner during my time at C-Sec, the smell and sight of that made me gag."

"I've felt like that a few times at Asari restaurants." Shepard confessed. "Their end of the Levo spectrum is quite the mixed bag. Though, I guess they could say the same about our food."

Looking up from what he was doing, he tilted his head at her quizzically. "When were you at Asari restaurants, Shepard?"

Shepard raised her eyebrows at him. "Oh, come on. You worked at the Citadel. _Everyone_ has an Asari phase. I was military. We make the most of our shore leave."

Picking up one last box and heading to the counter, he seemed to consider that before responding, taking his time to pick out the longer life food reserves he would need in the longer term. "Yeah, I guess that's true. I've never been great at that sort of thing, it's a good thing I lived here and they're are a patient people, no shore leave could be long enough."

She smiled wryly and paid using a Cerberus credit chit. "I'm surprised at you Garrus, does that mean you won't be testing your theory on women and scars while we're here? I was thinking we could find a nice bar and find some way for you to unwind."

Laughing, he transferred over details of their docking bay for the supplies to be sent back to, giving a low hum. "We'd need more than an hour or so for that. No, it's not really my style. Maybe once, but these days I'd rather hold out for something worth it."

"I know the feeling." She mumbled. "Can we stop for some food for now at that cafe? Sign says it serves both chiralities. I'm starving."

He glanced at her as they made a beeline towards it, there were a few tables visible inside and out, and she motioned to one near the corner looking out the window. "Wondering where Alenko is posted? Anderson was vague."

Taking a seat, rolling her shoulders and slumping back in it, she began fumbling with the seal on her gauntlets, pulling them free to pick up a menu. She twisted her mouth slightly, debating what exactly to say, eyes darting up to catch the curiosity on his face that always popped up when she made movements that weren't possible for his species. After how honest he'd been thus far when he really hadn't wanted to talk, it didn't seem right to hide things herself.

"Yes and no. Yes, because he was a friend and I care about him. I want to know that he's safe and well. I want to know that he's made something of himself after all that mess with Saren and the mud-slinging you talked about. All that media stuff can ruin a person's career, you know? As well as the psychological effect of it. No, because it's been such a long time, and he's probably moved on. When we last spoke on the Normandy before the attack, we were in such a weird place. Things were awkward after Ilos, we got so intense so suddenly and then, when it was over, nothing. We never really spoke about things and I'm never quite sure whether I wanted to or not."

He was still watching her when she looked up from the menu, hands clasped on the table in front of him. "Maybe it'll do you some good to take time to make sense of it. If he'd been there right away when they bought you back, it might have confused things more."

There was an edge to his voice, however casually he tried to put it, that gave her pause again. "That's not what's going on here, you know Garrus, I'm not latching on because you're the first old face I found, there's no confusion. I needed a friend and there you were, without hesitation. If anything I should be the worried one… you've been through a lot yourself. Out of the two of us, you're the one that should take time to think about where you want to be." She groaned and bit her lip. "Fuck, it was insensitive to make you come here, I should have let you be."

Mandibles flared, the turian shook his head aggressively, leaning forward. "I want to be on the Normandy. I've had two years of life without and I can tell you that without hesitation." He heaved a sigh. "There's just a lot on my mind right now. Loose ends." A low growl built in his throat, which he quickly supressed.

Shepard nodded her understanding. "Enough of that, let's get some grub. You can resume brooding over calibrations, for now, I enjoy chatting to you."

With a lop sided smile, he picked up the colour coded Dextro menu on the table. "No can do, Commander. Those guns call for no distractions."

"Lord help me when work starts on the new canons."

His eyes lit up and he looked up at her excitedly. "We're getting the Thanix Canons?"

"You recommended them, didn't you?"

He just grinned at her stupidly. "You get me all the best things."

"Well, if it keeps you out of trouble, and by trouble I mean Merc hives on Omega. Pick some food so we can order, Vakarian, I am starving. I can still cancel the upgrade, you know."

* * *

.

Even after Jacob had rejoined them, Shepard took her time in acclimating herself to the ward of the citadel they now docked at, as it was different to the parts she had been used to from the Alliance dock, and, if she was completely honest, every time she bought an expensive upgrade using the Illusive Man's money, she got a small thrill.

She had expected her Cerberus companion to be more disapproving of this, but as their current gunnery chief (though it pained her to think of anyone but Ashley as holding that title) he was easily won over by a couple of purchases for their guns, in particular a very nice package deal from Rodam that would increase the damage of their heavy pistols quite nicely. Her and Garrus had tried to talk up the benefits of a very pricey Tech upgrade, extolling the virtues of a well powered overload and a fabricator that could produce a stronger omni-blade, but the bottom line was, that even after an endorsement prompted discount, it was too pricey for them just yet.

As they approached security again to head back aboard, they could see through the window the parts and materials for the new canons and heavy armour plating being loaded into the cargo bay. Altogether, while she might have dragged the process out longer than necessary, it had been a very productive day, and she was ready to set a course to pick up the next of her strange team.

"Hey Vakarian, thought you were never coming back here?"

Shepard winced and prayed silently that Garrus would ignore it and just keep walking, however at the familiar voice and taunt, he looked back over his shoulder. It was a turian with light brown plates with faint white colony markings, who nudged the officer he was standing next to, a tall dark-skinned human, who looked up disbelievingly and laughed.

"The hell have you been?"

Next to her, she saw his mandibles tighten and his hand move to the pistol at his hip, gripping tightly.

"What happened to your face, Vakarian? Get that fighting a Reaper?" The human grinned.

Weirdly, Shepard found that she snapped before he did. That one was personal. Stopping in her tracks and turning around, the other two soon following suit.

"Say that again, Officer." She challenged, head lowered, giving him a look of pure venom from under dark eyelashes, still healing scars on her own face seemed to glint in the harsh artificial light of C-Sec.

Twin looks of recognition washed over both of them as they took in the red head in front of them, eyes widening. The human opened his mouth dumbly, but nothing came out. She strode forward, and though they both towered above her, squared up to him menacingly. "Were you at the Battle of the Citadel, Officer?" She demanded.

Words still failed him, she arched her eyebrows and tilted her head. As the silence stretched on, she took a step back and paced a circle, waving a hand at him dismissively. "Garrus, your friend here seems to be a mute all of a sudden. Was he even posted here during the Battle of the Citadel?"

"No, Commander. I don't believe he was." He stalked forward a little, hesitant to engage them. There were a few people watching curiously, and this kind of thing was one of the reasons he had left in the first place. "He was recruited following the attack."

"How about you, Officer? You look like you have some brains left in your head to talk." She addressed the turian who had first recognised her.

"No, Spectre."

"Then what the fuck would either of you know?" She hissed, pointing a finger at them.

They both looked embarrassed for a moment, the turian staring awkwardly to the side. After fidgeting, the human spoke again. "The council say it was the Geth and that rogue Spectre. The Reapers aren't real and the stress got to the lot of you."

Shepard rolled her eyes. "Ah, so you can talk again can you? Tell me then, since you weren't there for the attack, are you Alliance, Officer? Have you ever seen the Geth?"

"I was a civilian." He shrugged, "But I've seen the vids-"

Behind her, Garrus gave a bitter bark of laughter. "See what I meant Shepard? Every idiot with a holoscreen has been fed the Council bullshit, and they've all become quite the expert."

"Vids eh? Did the vids ever have you surrounded by the damn things? Ever blown their heads off and seen the sparks fly? Have you ever taken down a Geth Prime with your pistol because you ran out of thermal clips? Ever seen a drop ship up close? Or at all?" She moved right in again, eyes narrowed. "Garrus has. That was an average work day for us. Did he ever tell you about them? Did you ever even ask?"

"N-No."

"We've seen it all. The Geth, Saren, Husks, a Reaper. Sovereign. It was 2 kilometers long. Can you even imagine a ship that size? It took everything we had to destroy it. It took thousands of lives with it and nearly the Destiny Ascension." Her voice was lowered dangerously. "Unlike you, Garrus was there. He was there the whole way, just as I was, just as every person serving on my ship was."

Taking a step back, she threw her arms in the air and circled again. "We can't make you believe us, we aren't the Council. itt would be a waste of my time now just as it was a waste of his time before. But you should know this –all of you should know this!" She shouted the last part for the people who had gathered, noticing the two officers being chewed out by a small, heavily armoured woman that they had seen before all over the news. "One day, you will know this is no joke, and that the Reapers are real. You will know that we fought for you then, just as we are fighting the Collectors now, and, when the Reapers do come, we will fight for you again."

Stopping in her tracks, Shepard gave the two officers the coldest glare she had managed yet and spoke directly to them again rather than the small crowd. "And you two… you two will know exactly what Garrus Vakarian is worth, what every other person on the Normandy is worth, just like I do. You should have been honoured to work with him. He was right to leave C-Sec." Snorting derisively, she shook her head. "You aren't worth his time. You are certainly not worth my time. Lives to save, you know."

Just as she stopped talking, Al-Jilani ran through some doors, camera hovering in tow, panting and out of breath. "Did I miss her?" She muttered to herself, as she hurried along. "Commander Shepard! Commander!"

"Nope." Shepard turned and strode towards the dock, praising the good timing of her impromptu speech. "Nope, nope, nope."

The three of them strode away, the reporter hurrying trying to catch them up as they went. A murmur rose behind them as those gathered started discussing what had just happened. Garrus didn't say anything for a while, but kept glancing furtively to his side at her. It suddenly occurred to her that it might have been more than a little embarrassing for her to be so protective of him like that, and she felt a flush of heat as her face reddened.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." She apologised, as she punched in the code for the airlock so they could begin decontamination. "I didn't mean to show you up like that."

He fiddled with the cuffs of his gloves, staring holes into the floor. "I appreciated the sentiment."

"Yeah, but you didn't want to draw attention to yourself and I went all 'Commander Shepard' on them."

The final set of doors whirred open, and they stepped inside, headed to the elevator. "They needed it. They never believed it from me. I might have preferred a quieter, friendlier chat. With no shouting or crowds. One where I don't need my Commanding Officer to fight mt battles for me."

"How did you put up with them for that long?" She huffed, crossing her arms.

"I _used_ to be quite patient. So did you, if I recall."

"Intense military service does that to a person."

The lift doors opened, and the turian stepped inside, headed straight to the console. "I know you want to talk about this, but I'm going to see construction started. I can't. I've had quite enough for one day."

Before she could say another word, the doors had closed. Turning to her terminal, she saw Kelly giving her somewhat a patronising 'what-did-you-do' look and shot the woman a glare.

"Commander, I only heard-"

"Chambers, if the next words out of your mouth aren't about the delicious looking supplies I just had sent in, you and I are going to fall out."

"It's just-"

"Kelly." Shepard interrupted again, throwing her head back and slouching. "I have put my foot in it enough today. Don't make me shout again. I don't want to upset you."

Disapproving silence was almost worse than any attempts to scold her and cite Archangel's psych evaluation, and after taking pause to read her unread messages, she stepped up to the galaxy map. "Joker, set a course for the Hourglass Nebula. No particular hurry, we won't be boarding the Purgatory until next cycle."

Stepping down again, she rolled her shoulders. Time to ditch the hardsuit and try to catch some rest. Or more likely pour over more datapads Miranda had waiting for her. The joys of command would never cease.


End file.
